In My Skin
by vintage-angel
Summary: The life and times of Rory and Lorelai when they came to Star Hollows....(LL)Please read and review!
1. The first year

Hi! This is a different kind of fic. What happpened before the show started? How did the lives of Rory and Lorelai begin in Star Hollows. Keep on reading.

Trapped in the middle the town was a homely looking diner. I had seen ones like it before. And I knew that when I entered my story would unfold. I'd fit into the puzzle, as busy customers buzzed by me and judged my hair, outfit and posture. Star Hollows was extremely different and foreign to me at the time. I'd been used to living like a queen. Everyone wanted the life I had, or so I'd heard. The pearls, the diamonds, the glamor. But it always seems that the more you want something the more disappointed you are when you've finally got it. You've heard the stories, the movie stars; there all addicted to drugs, smoke 60 cigarettes a day and are in various fights with their parents who somehow did something unjust; they're depressed. And lemme tell ya I was depressed. It's not that fun living in expensive real-estate, the Gilmore mansion. Nobody even knew my name for Christ sakes! To them I was just Miz. Gilmore daughter of a very wealthy man, and let me tell ya; the name was considered more important then the person it belonged to. I wanted what every "typical" teenager had and funny enough other teenagers; they all wanted what I had. But instead, it seemed at the time that I was blessed with something which no teenager wants, in fact something that most teenagers fear... a baby.

Emily Gilmore paced around the room in a frenzy.

"Are you not happy with your life here?" she wondered, eyes piercing right through my innocent expression.

"No...mom...I.."

"You what? Because there has to be something. What could I have possibly done to deserve this? What?" I half expected the window beside me to shatter, it was so cold in that room.

"Mom, don't think this is your fault. This is NOT your fault. I take complete responsibility..." I tried.

"I brought you up like all the other mothers. I took you to the park. I bathed you everyday. I even read to you at night," her eyes became blurry.

"You stopped reading to me when I was five mom. You stopped taking me to the park when I was four. And from then on I was in possession of your staff. Some poor maid who previously thought that babysitting wasn't part of the job,"

Emily stared out into space, in her own little delusional world; her own little wonderland. "I-I loved you," she whispered.

"Well that's great. Did a walnut happen to fall on your head when you were serving cocktails earlier, or is that seriously a major break through for you?"

And I remember at that moment how much I was hurting. How much I wanted to crawl into the security of a warm blanket and sleep forever. Just so that I didn't have to get up in the morning and deal with life. My screwed up life.

"It was that smile, the way your lips curved whenever you saw me as if I was the nicest thing in the world... In your world," her voice fluttered, as she moved in and out of her eerie trance.

"Interesting, Ever consider writing a poem: "How I used to love my daughter?"

"Don't be ridiculous Lorelai".

A loose end hung in the air. A loose end that no one could tie except my own mother. Not even those damned maids who bent down everyday to tie my shoelaces for me, when I was a little girl because my mother didn't want to "hurt" her back. "Don't be ridiculous Lorelai...I still love you," That's what I expected. But I was wrong. Emily Gilmore would rather swallow poison.  
  
"So I'm presuming the father is Christopher?" she wondered, composing herself.

I nodded my head.

"Were you protected?"

Was I protected? Brilliant question. Yes, I was protected. I've been protected my whole bloody life. "Yes mom, I was "protected".

"God knows these modern mechanisms do not work," she breathed.

Well I wouldn't know...because SOMEONE believed that the three letter word should only be uttered in hell. "There was a very small chance I'd get pregnant mom, you know that," I stuttered.

Emily Gilmore stood up again, her pleated skirt dragging gracefully across the ground, so deceiving, to anyone who didn't know her."So what do you propose to do?" she questioned.

"I don't know," I said honestly. And I didn't know. I had no clue.

I remember the day when Rory was born. The morning after her birth when I opened my eyes I honestly thought I was in heaven. The light shone into my dusty hospital room forcing my eyes to water so that little tear drops rolled down my cheeks. And I licked them and felt the salty water sting my tongue. Everything seemed so bright while I was in that land between waking and sleep, and I thought that maybe it was an omen or something; a promise of better days to come. Rory was a beautiful kid and Christopher even dropped out of school so that he could try and support his family that was breaking at the seams. And for a while we actually thought things were working. I knew deep down though, Rory could never be happy, not when she got older and went to school with kids who bragged about their rich fathers who were lawyers and owned Porsches. She'd just sit there, and wish she had what I let go. So I did what I thought was best. I moved and took Rory with me. Some would have liked to call it running away, and hell, I guess the dictionary definition would match, but I liked to use the word move in the sense that Imoved on. I wanted, needed, to go anywhere, where I could make a living, and be who I wanted to be.  
  
The advertisement was posted in the front of the inn, "Maids needed. Reasonable pay. Please contact ASAP". And then there was some phone number. But I didn't need it. Right when I read that sign I hopped out of the car, grabbed Rory's baby carrier and marched confidently into the "Independence Inn".

"I'd like a job," I stated. I knew people were looking, but I wasn't embarrassed, I was doing this for my kid.

"You'd like a job," the woman at the counter looked me up and down skeptically and then stifled a breath. "Well, I'm not quite the person to talk to this-"

"I need a job. Any job. I'll clean toilets. Can work a plunger like a charm. I just really need a job," I insisted.

Rory let out a few modest cries from her carrier and rocked it around like a nut case. But nobody looked. They seemed too engrossed in their small town chatter.

"Aren't you a little young to be working?" The woman wondered as she flipped through some flyers on her desk.

"Yes. But I'm known to work hard, and I will work hard,"

"Well we have an opening. We are in dyer need of some maids; people able to do basic housecleaning...you know, the works,"

"Then I'm your man,"

She let out a nervous laugh. Who wouldn't be scared of me? I was a desperate lunatic.

"Woman," I corrected, still confident.

"I'll just have to check with Tom. I don't think you need to be interviewed though. You'd just be a maid," I'd just be a maid. Surprisingly what I'd always wanted.

I got the job. My charm and good looks proved to be a brilliant combo and soon I was on the boss's top ten list (just kidding about the charm and good look thing, although, he seemed to think so). When Tom found out that I was staying at a rundown hotel he told me that I was welcome to move into a potting shed that might make a cozy home for me and Rory. I took up his offer. It was located behind the Inn and I spent my days dodging between the shed and my work, after all I was employed in another business; raising a kid. What did we do for food? Hah, did you think we mooched off local food banks? Nope. We relied on too things: Doose's market and.... Luke's diner.  
  
The guy standing behind the counter appeared to be around my age...maybe a bit older. He was cute. REALLY cute. We're not talking Prince William here, we're talking Johnny Depp, or so I thought at the time.

"Hi," I exclaimed as I waltzed up to the counter. I saw his eyes wondering and his body seemed to stiffen as he took me in. He nodded robotically. Yup, he nodded. Luke Danes nodded.

"Uh...hi," he said awkwardly. "How can I help you?"

"Coffee please," I perked. My head was forcing me to keep talking but my mouth couldn't seem to let the words go. He looked sexy in his red t-shirt as he operated the coffee machine. Nice muscles. Unfortunately for the last few years Luke's made a hobby of hiding them with flannel.

"So, you new around here?" Cute boy asked, handing me my mug.

"Yup," I took a sip of the coffee and the warm goodness seemed to explode in my mouth.

"What's wrong?" he asked seemingly offended by my expression.

" Nothing. Hell, this is the best coffee I have ever tasted! Seriously you could keep some dying guys heart pumping for a few more seconds by giving him a sip of this stuff!" I explained.

"Uhh...thanks...I'll try it some time," he laughed.

"Ya you should, "

I thought he was going to ask me out then. But what would he say, "Would you like to come here for coffee sometime?" So instead there was an awkward silence. And fortunately I decided to sing.

"Coffee, coffee is so swell, it makes me feel nice and well. Do I sound like a western bell? Falala deedeededee,"

He looked at me skeptically. "Are you okay...?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Coffee man I am just high on life!"

He chuckled again, more manly. "No more for you," he stated...or maybe flirted?

No more for you. The line that would hit me like a freight train in many more coffee based conversations to come. I pouted a bit, but then handed him the cash.

"Bye," I waved flirtatiously.

"Wait ," he said, finding a new in interest in his feet. "What's your name?"

"Lorelai," I told him giddily.

"I'm Luke," I giggled like a silly little kid.

"Figured that," I said walking out the door.

"See you later, Lorelai?"

"Definitely".

So that's how it all started. My rocky relationship with Luke began with one small conversation between two hormonal teenagers. And then I went home to where Rory was sleeping and told her petite body that I was sorry for leaving her alone for so long but that I had met a possible husband-to-be. She didn't understand a single word I said....because she was three months old...and asleep. But I was happy anyways. For the first time in a long time I was truly happy.

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Hope you liked it. Review pleasssssssse!


	2. The second year

Ok, second chapter. Read on!

$$$$$$

After Rory's second birthday we had a lot of "stuff" to add to our collection. And I'm not talking frilly rattles and pink diapers, I mean real stuff. You see somehow it had spread around town that the beautiful Gilmore Girls were living in a potting shed similar to the homes of people in third world countries, and were eating pbj sandwiches everyday. So for my kid's second birthday people tended to not only buy things that would benefit the squabbling toddler but also our home.  
  
Miss. Patty handed me my present and smiled sincerely.  
  
"I hope you like it honey," she said. In other words: "Even if you don't say that you do".  
  
"It's a telephone," I exclaimed, a fake smile plastered to my face. "Just what RORY"S always wanted,"  
  
Miss. Patty laughed and then made some strange gesture that seemed to communicate more to the guests then to me myself. "I just thought that little Rory could practice her numbers. You know, you say the numbers and she presses them,"  
  
"And we end up on the phone with Mr. Jenkins in Tim-Buck 2," I added for kicks.  
  
Just then a new voice piped in. That of a teenaged boy formally known as Kirk, the newspaper deliverer.  
  
"Mr. Jenkins. I believe I know him. Did he have a company here that manufactured"Good Nites" a few years ago?" Laughter roared through-out the room and Kirk's face turned tomato red. "It was probably a dream," he said meekly.  
  
As I gazed around the Inn I felt extremely sorry for the maids (me, myself and I). Cups and confetti and many things that started with c's (get your mind out of the gutter) cluttered the room, but amongst it all was one lonely present still left to be opened. One gigantic present. But I wouldn't judge the parcel by its size, because as I said before, that is something my mother would do.  
  
Now that were on the subject I'm sure you would be shocked to know that Emily didn't even make it to Rory's party. Don't think she wasn't invited. I was sure to exercise "the good manners I was blessed with" by informing her of the date time and place. I can even recall the conversation. It had been over the telephone, sadly enough that's how I kept in touch with the people I once called family.

I remember how much my fingers shook as I dialed the number on the Inn's telephone. How much I knew I would regret what I was doing.

And I did.  
  
"Hi mom," I muttered as I heard the distant clashing of expensive glasses. She was having yet another of her cocktail parties.

"Lorelai," Emily addressed.  
  
"We're having a party for Rory at the Inn and I thought that maybe you would want to be there,"  
  
"What Inn is this?"  
  
"The Inn where I work Mom," I told her, genuinely annoyed. She had asked that question at least 5 times in the last year.  
  
"Oh right, whose going?"  
  
"Rory and me. And some guests. Some local people who I'm suspecting you wouldn't think fit to clean your floors". I know, it was harsh, but think about how terrible I was feeling. My mother didn't even consider my job important enough to remember.  
  
"Don't talk to me like that!" Emily snapped and continued flapping her mouth like it was her duty," Why on earth do you want me to come if your just going to treat me like garbage?" DUH. I thought it was a no-brainer.

"For Rory mom, for my little baby girl who may never know her grandparents". But I doubt she even heard. She was too busy instructing the maid on how to take the gizzard bag out of the turkey without damaging it's skin.

"Lorelai, would you please hurry up? I'm in the middle of something,"

And then I made a rash decision, a very rash decision.  
  
"Yeah, I'll hurry up," I sneered, and I hung up on Emily Gilmore.  
  
Anyways, back to the gigantic present. I knew right away who it was from and I betcha you did too (okay so I'm not that great at telling stories). Some people never change and Luke Danes is definitely one of them. "Open it! Open it! Open it!" The cry echoed through-out the room, competing with Rory's sobs for attention. I stuck Rory's soother in her mouth and kissed her on the fore-head before strolling over to the present. "From Luke," read a piece of paper attached to the front with a scrappy green ribbon. Sure, he has never been able to master words, but Luke Danes is by far one of the sweetest men I have ever crossed paths with. I knew that then. And I know it now. I slowly unwrapped the gift and found myself jumping with joy as I realized what was inside. Not only had he gone out of his way to purchase an adorable play kit for Rory but he had also bought us a-  
  
"Coffee maker!" I half screamed. "Luke where are you? This is going down in history beside Rudolph and-'  
  
"He didn't come," someone said and the whole room broke out in mayhem.

My heart felt as if it slid out of my chest and smashed to a million pieces on the floor. ANd my head told me that everyone could see it and that everyone knew how I felt and knew why I felt that way.

The next day I marched into the diner, bright and early, with Rory in hand. I was relieved beyond belief when I saw Kirk sitting with his grandma at his usual table. "Take her!" I commanded, pushing Rory into his arms. Kirk let out a high pitched squeal.  
  
"Does it bite?" He wondered, but he received no answer.  
  
Luke was bent over the counter wiping it furiously and it became obvious to me that he was pretending he didn't know I was there. "Why didn't you come?" I asked him straight out, daring him to look me in the eye. He didn't although, just acted as if cleaning the table was his life's goal. "Luke, what the hell? Has table cleaning become an Olympic sport or something? Answer me!" I yelled.  
  
"I had things to do,'  
  
"And these things were more important then Rory's birthday party?" I snapped.

"Why was it so important that I was there? I left my present didn't I?"

Awkward silence.

"Because I-Rory wanted you to be there," I whispered.  
  
"Oh,"  
  
"Yeah. Oh".  
  
Luke offered to come over and teach me how to use the coffee maker in exchange for not making it to the party. He helped more then he realized, even though he was forced to play doctor when the machine decided to get angry. It exploded on me and the hot liquid left my arms blistered and sore.When that happened Luke transformed into a mad man; running around and searching frantically for any remedy that would help to heal burns. He found suitable lotion and led me over to the couch, instructing me to sit down. And I didn't object. Luke would be too embarrassed. When he applied the lotion his touch sent shivers down my back and I felt a lot better. I still ask myself sometimes though, magic lotion or magic fingers?  
  
In the end the coffee maker was better then new.So I gave Luke a hug to show him how grateful I was and somehow it felt right; it felt right to be pressed up against his warm body.

For many years I would seek safety in Luke's strong arms. He was the security blanket I'd never had, not to mention the psychiatrist who would help me to solve many problems and leap over many obstacles in my life. Unfortunately I still haven't told him how much I love and appreciate him. Thank god times on my side.  
  
!!!!!!  
  
Read and review pl-easse.


	3. The third year

Okay, here's the next chapter, hope you like it

! !!!!!!!!!!!  
  
When Rory was three she did many unforgivable things. I even remember praying a few times on her behalf, begging God to please forgive her of her sins. I suppose I was a bit of a melodramatic mother, I mean every kid at sometime in their life must do something as drastic as sticking a pea up their nose or mistaking Lego for the actual candy. But my fear all came down to small worries that tied knots in my stomach and made we wonder if I'd be at my kid's funeral in a week. I mean, take it into perspective. If your child was playing Lego peacefully one sunny afternoon, taking pride in her 10 block creation and then seconds later eating it, what would you do? Take her to a psychiatrist? No, because although it's done in movies in real life three year olds are not smart enough to relate an ink blot collage to an omen of death. Or, maybe, tape her mouth shut to prevent any further architectural meals? If you ask me that's classified as child abuse. So I did what any sane mother would do, I hired a nanny.  
  
Cynthia came easy. She was a high school drop out (not that I'm proud to admit it) who had an insane devotion to anything that couldn't talk properly. I know you're probably thinking, how the hell did I have enough money to pay for a nanny? Well miracles happen, my friend. It turned out that Cynthia worked at a bar at night (not stripping, made sure of that) and was just looking for something to keep her busy and maybe earn her a bit of money during the day. Rory was the perfect "something".  
  
"Sinchia!" Rory screamed through her newly acquired teeth.  
  
"I think she wants you to stay," I informed the departing Nanny as I tried desperately to hold squirming Rory back from her clear cut fate of becoming a road side pancake.  
  
Cynthia smiled. "No Rory honey, I have to go to work now, you go play with your choochoos," she told the toddler.  
  
Just to fill you in "Choochoo" is the equivalent of little kid slang for train.  
  
"No!!! Sinchia!! Docter barbeee!!" Rory exclaimed between strangled cries.  
  
Cynthia then proceeded to tell me that Rory and she had been in the process of healing Ken with Barbie's magic "heart beater," when I arrived, and that Rory wanted to finish the game.  
  
"Oh, Rory honey, why don't you come with mommy and watch Sesame Street?" I asked pulling Rory by her hand into the house.  
  
Rory looked up at me with big puppy eyes "Sinchia was gonna make popcorn for me and we were gonna pay docter barbee," she whined.  
  
And then I realized what was going on. Cynthia had become Rory's significant other and I was just a stand in mother. An expression of seriousness washed over my face.  
  
"Cynthia, I think you should go," I said.  
  
She looked a little upset at first, and then the reason seemed to click.  
  
"Okay, see you tomorrow, Rory!"  
  
"Bye Sinchia." Rory pouted.  
  
As I shut the door the baby began to cry, an endless waterfall pouring down her cheeks.  
  
"No, no. Rory don't cry!" I led her over to the couch and placed her carefully into my lap. She objected a bit but then settled down.  
  
"Now mommy is going to tell you something, and you have to listen, okay?" I informed her as I brushed a strand of her long brown her out of her eyes. Rory shook her head.  
  
"Cynthia isn't your mommy Rory, I am. I'm the mommy who's going to take you to your first day of school and I'm the mommy who you're going to tell how yucky boys are too. But I get sad when you treat me like you don't like me. And I get sad when you act like you can't live without Cynthia. I just want you to remember that I'm your mommy, not Cynthia, ok?" I know, it sounded a bit like I was lecturing a three year old who would much rather be ripping hair out of Barbie's, but I think she really took it to heart.  
  
"I'm sorri mommi," Rory whispered.  
  
'That's okay, now lets go party" I exclaimed as I picked her up and flew her around the room in airplane mode. And as I did I smiled to myself because I knew my kid adored me.  
  
I remember one winter's day that year. It was 10 degrees below zero out and snow covered the town's ground like frosty cake icing. Families merrily decorated their homes for the long-awaited holiday season and, I went out on a Christmas tree hunt.  
  
The storm didn't begin until I was half way to Good ridge farm. The wind howled and snowflakes the size of golf balls pelted the windshield. I thought about turning around but then I remembered Rory's gleeful expression when I told her what a beautiful tree we would have.  
  
Is it really worth risking your lifealthough, for a tree that's already dead? No. Not in my books anyways. So despite Rory's cute face I made the wise decision to turn around. Unfortunately, the procedure was a lot more difficult then I thought it would be. As I made my turn, one of the wheels on my car caught a piece of ice and sent the vehicle swerving into a ditch.  
  
Scary. You may think that horror movies like "The Ring" are Cr-eeepy but losing control of your car beats all Grammy winning freaky moments. I tried quite a few times to back myself out of the ditch but the snow was so deep that my dumb ass car wouldn't move a millimeter. So guess what I did?  
  
"Hi, Luke?" I half yelled into my cell phone.  
  
"Lorelai, is everything okay?" Came his muffled reply.  
  
"No," I glanced around. Snow had now completely covered the car making me feel like I was trapped inside a Popsicle." I'm kinda stuck,"  
  
"What. Where?" Luke asked, worry framing his voice.  
  
"I-I donno. Somewhere by Good ridge tree farm. I'm on a side road, there aren't really any other cars around," I  
  
"Are you inside your car?"  
  
"Yup,"  
  
"Is the engine running?" He sounded really concerned.  
  
"Yeah,"  
  
"Okay, stay there. I'll find you," he said in a hurry, and hung up.  
  
I betcha he closed the diner right then and there to become my knight in shining armor. Luke would die for the people the people he loved, and that moment I thanked the lord that I was one of them.  
  
Approximately half an hour later Luke's van pulled up behind me.  
  
"Are you alright?" he wondered as he tugged at the front door.  
  
"Just peachy," I chimed. "Actually I've managed to keep myself amused by performing dirty finger puppet shows in the rear-view mirror".  
  
Luke chuckled. "And I thought this was an emergency," he exclaimed.  
  
"Oh it was. You see if you hadn't come my fingers would have fallen off from frost bite and then I wouldn't be able to entertain myself,"  
  
"Well thank you for making the half an hour journey sound completely worthwhile," Luke said sarcastically.  
  
"You're welcome!"  
  
"We're going to have to shovel you out tomorrow. But for now I'll just drive you home The snows been coming down for a while so you're a few feet in. It would take too long-"  
  
I touched his arm lightly to stop him from rambling.  
  
"Thanks for coming Luke. I really appreciate it". I said sincerely.  
  
Luke scratched his woolen cap, his very cute woolen cap, and smiled modestly.  
  
"No problem".  
  
I had another memorable encounter with Luke that year, not that the events revolving around the man mark my social calendar. You see, Luke and I have a strange relationship. To someone passing by we'd appear as friends, bickering about the weather, the last episode of "the Price is Right" or contemplating what has been done with the rest of Michael Jackson's face. But the moments that define our relationship are the ones that no one really knows about, because we keep them close to our hearts, buried beneath lies and misconceptions. This particular moment happened in a time of vulnerability. It was summer and I had been having a terrible day. At work I had broken a grand total of six dishes and been yelled at multiple times by annoyed kitchen staff. And when I got home Cynthia had told me that she might have to quit. Directly after that Satan's wife called and we got into another one of our heart-wrenching arguments. This time she accused me of purposely not coming to my father's birthday celebration because I was a conniving selfish little brat who didn't care at all about her parents. So I was driven to the boos. I drowned my sorrows away right in front of Rory and then threw up all over her favorite teddy bear (I bet your not liking me a lot right now). I also forgot that I had invited Luke over to help me hang some new curtains.  
  
I jumped when the doorbell rang and then hurried to hide my bottle of Vodka under an upturned couch pillow.  
  
"I'll get it Rory!' I yelled. Which is kind of funny because Rory couldn't even reach the handle at the time.  
  
I opened the door to a fresh looking Luke whose expression changed from anticipation to confusion in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Hiya Luke,"  
  
Little did I know that my face was lined with mascara marks because I'd been crying.  
  
"Your drunk," he stated, surprised.  
  
"Nice to see you too," I exclaimed, practically falling onto the couch. I observed as Luke's face turned fire red and I knew why. Rory was peeking her innocent little head out of her pile of toys with expression that read "help me!" written all over her face.  
  
"What the hell kind of mother are you?" Luke yelled, picking up the frightened little girl in his arms.  
  
I felt my face become warm, and my throat began to swell. "Don't you yell at me too," I cried.  
  
"Then you've got some explaining to do," Luke roared. He placed Rory back amongst her toys and gave her a hug "You play," he mumbled. "Mommy's going to be okay".  
  
I felt my heart swell up at that moment. Even though I was drunk I still felt emotion when I saw how fatherly Luke Danes had just acted towards my daughter. His kind actions made me feel extremely ashamed because the most I had said to Rory all night was 'go play". I couldn't control myself then as an endless supply of tears flowed freely from my eyes.  
  
"Jesus, Lorelai what the hell is the matter with you?" Luke asked, sitting down on the couch beside me.  
  
"Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you treat her like that? Like her father for god's sake. I-I have a daughter who doesn't even know me, Luke and a mother who thinks I'm a selfish little brat. And the funny thing is-"I stopped for a minute and laughed. "I don't even know myself anymore".  
  
Luke glanced at me sympathetically. "Did something happen earlier?" he asked.  
  
"Oh more then something happened earlier, EVERYTHING happened earlier. I might be fired from work because I keep dropping things, and the nanny's probably gonna quit. Then what the hell will I do? There's no one to look after Rory while I work. My mother also called and yelled at me, and I-I didn't even do anything," I took in a deep breath. "I didn't do anything," I repeated more quietly.  
  
Luke opened his arms and I fell into them, a tear drenched puddle.  
  
"Shhh". "Everything's going to be okay," he comforted.  
  
"How do you know that?" I asked into his sweater, lulled by the sound of him breathinf and the smell of his cologne.  
  
"Because you have people in your life who love you and care about you," I know totally out of character, but what would you say if you were him? As I leaned into Luke I heard the scattering of little feet on the hardwood floor. Rory had been listening the whole time.  
  
"I love you mommy, and Luke loves you too," Rory told me, in her most adult voice. I sat up slowly and took Rory into my arms.  
  
I knew then that if a stranger passed by at that moment they wouldn't see two friends and a child ...they would see a family.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!  
  
The end, less Luke next chapter, promise.


	4. The fourth year

Here we go

! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I tended to stear away from guys the first years we lived in Star Hollows. Mainly because I, as I told you before, did not want to come home one night and find Rory still on the carpet having just consumed something that bared a skull and cross bones on its container. But there was one guy, one very attractive and sweet guy that I just couldn't skip past. He went by then name of Tim Hodgens. Okay so weird name, I know. And trust me, it did promote many chances for mockery. Including my famous and overused line "How are the lodgin's Hodgens?"  
  
I met Tim while I was at work. He was whistling "Zipiddy doo dah," as he wiped off the main railing and I just happened to exclaim " My, oh my, what a wonderful day!"(the rest of the song). Then we got into a very hypothetical conversation as to whether stair railings really needed to be cleaned because people brush all the dust off as they touch them. And we connected. We really connected.  
  
The conversation went something like this:  
  
"My oh my what a wonderful day!" I exclaimed, having just overheard railing man whistle the familiar tune. He lifted his head and my knees turned to jelly. The guy was probably around 30, with gorgeous green eyes that I immediately wanted to pull out of his head and play marbles with. He saw me looking at him and then said "hi," very quietly.  
  
"Hi," I smiled.  
  
"You work here too?" He asked. He was obviously checking me out. And I am proud to say that I looked just like I walked out of one of those murder mystery dinners in my maid costume.  
  
"Yah. Though I'm not partial to the outfits," I explained.   
  
"I'm Tim".

Now that I think about it he reminds me a lot of Max. There was just something so effortless about the way he talked to me, like he'd had years of practice.  
  
"I'm Lorelai, hi".  
  
We shook hands (sounds strange I know, I think we just wanted to make sure that each other were real) and then I started one of the oddest conversations that I have ever had the chance to partake in. "So, you clean banisters?" I wondered, stroking the banister flirtatiously with my hand and acting completely interested in the topic. "Not usually. I'm a male maid," he stifled a laugh. "But I'm not gay," Okay so maybe not exactly smooth, but cute. "Actually, I could use a little help with the banister..."  
  
I grinned. "Oh, don't ask me, I'll probably pull A Mary Poppins on ya,"  
  
You know, the scene in the little kids house where she slides down their banister? It was obvious that he didn't understand the reference because although he laughed it was rather forced and sounded like more of a squawk.  
  
"See personally, I don't understand why we even have to clean banisters, because they all look perfectly clean to me". I commented.  
  
"Yah. The oil from people's hands acts as a cleaner and keeps them nice and shiny, therefore by cleaning them I am denying them of their natural shine,".  
  
I laughed. This guy was the most attractive weirdo I had ever met. "Plus, who even cares if the banister is clean!? Have you ever read a comment card that says something like "I enjoyed the food, but the banisters were very dusty, I might have to call the manager?""  
  
He smiled at me, completely engrossed in the conversation. "This is Star Hollows". He pointed out.  
  
Okay, so he had a point. To some Star Hollows was known as a well kept mental asylum.  
  
Tim put his rag down on the end of the railing.

I knew what was coming next.

As he took a deep breath he wondered" Do you want to go out for coffee sometime?"  
  
I felt a smile stretch across my face, extending from ear to ear. "I'd love to".  
  
And that was the end of that. The relationship on the other hand was very short lived. I think it was like a four date ordeal. Let's just say that his intentions were not exactly honorable. Luke would have agreed.  
  
On the evening of our fourth date I was feeling a little crazy, so I decided to take a leap of faith. It was a beautiful night out, the moon peeked its head out from behind a patch of clouds and stars spotted the sky in a seemingly endless pattern. The wind added a romantic effect to the evening walk, and not just because it seemed interested in blowing up my skirt (although that was fun).  
  
"What is this place?" Tim asked as we strolled arm in arm down the street towards our destination.  
  
"Luke's diner, my coffee haven"  
  
I know, big step. Luke has never been too enthusiastic about my boyfriends. But I had come to the decision that there was nothing going on there and that this was a necessary step towards complete independence. It turned out although that Luke would be the hero of the night, not the jealous friend.  
  
"We can sit here," I told Tim, leading him to a nicely lit table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant.  
  
"Good thinking. Good lights and a beautiful view," he sat down across me. I giggled at his comment and suggested items off the menu, my favorites.  
  
I had noticed that evening that Tim had seemed a little disturbed; a bit more touchy feely then normal. Little did I know that he was involved in some goofball dare with his friends. Whoever went the furthest with their girlfriend won fifty bucks out of each guy's pocket. Tim was trying a little too hard to win the cash.  
  
"You look stunning tonight," he grinned. It was a completely sleazy smile.  
  
"So do you,"  
  
Tim grabbed my hand from across the table as diner man came around, I tried to squirm out of his grip but he held it firmly.  
  
"What can I get for you?" Luke asked.  
  
I knew right away that Luke could see the worry in my eyes. But he pretended to ignore it for a while, busying himself with his notebook. At that point red lights were going off in my head. This guy was pretty strong. He could rape me. He could rape me? Not Tim, too nice, too sweet.  
  
"I'll have a cheeseburger please," Tim said. "With pickles, onions, and ketchup".  
  
Luke wrote down the order quickly, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. When his vision wandered over to my squirming hand he said something. Finally.  
  
"What are you trying to pull buddy?" he asked Tim.  
  
"What the hell do you mean?"  
  
"She obviously doesn't want to be holding your hand, so why don't you just let go?" Tim still held my hand firmly. But I knew now it was just to make a statement and let Luke know I belonged to him. Yet, the ultimate question still popped up in my head, were they fighting over my hand... or were they fighting over me?  
  
"Hey! Who's the boyfriend here, me or you?" Tim demanded. He stood up and confronted Luke.

I knew what was going to happen. They were going to have a fight, right here in the middle of the diner.  
  
So I did what any moral person would do. I broke them up.  
  
"Whoah, whoah, this is not the wrestling championships. This is a date!" I glanced at Tim sympathetically "Which is now over".  
  
"But, Lorelai. I'm sorry. I was just tryin-"Tim pleaded innocently.  
  
"To get down my pants! Now screw off Mr!"  
  
And he left. Muttering swear words under his breath and obviously wishing that there wasn't a rule against fighting girls. I thanked Luke sincerely and he told me to make sure to make better choices in the future. And the whole thing was really very symbolic. But I'll let you figure that part out.  
  
How'd I find out about the dare? Tim left a message on my machine explaining the whole thing and begging me for an apology; I never called him back. I had enough trash in my life already.

"""""  
I remember Rory's first day of preschool. She cried and cried and cried and cried, until I thought that I would probably drown in my own kid's tears.  
  
"Mommy, I don want to go!" Rory screamed as I pulled her into the school.  
  
Parents everywhere were giving us strange looks and to tell you the truth I was growing anxious. "Rory, you have to. Everything is going to be fine. Trust me, they'll make you peanut butter sandwiches and you'll meet lots of friends,"  
  
Rory brushed the tears out of her eyes, "What if I don want anymore friends? I just want you to be my friend mommy," Rory whined and I felt a pit in my stomach. How could I leave her there after she'd said that? That heart melting comment that could only be uttered out of a very special little kids mouth. So I didn't make her go. In fact I didn't even go to work that day just so that I could stay home with my kid and give her multiple pre-school prep talks.  
  
And thanks to my advice, the next day she was all ready.  
  
My little girl was starting school.  
  
!!!!!  
  
The end. I may end it here for good because I'm gonna be really busy. Anyways, please review!:)


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